


Nothing Lovelier Under the Night

by Thief



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Dialogue Heavy, Don’t copy to another site, Ficlet, Fluff and Humor, Fluff without Plot, Gaven POV, Humor, M/M, Mutual Clowns, Mutual Pining, Nudity, Swimming, leeches, sfw, не копировать не уточнив у автора
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-28 01:52:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18201908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thief/pseuds/Thief
Summary: Gaven tries to balance his responsibilities with his emotional needs and is very bad at it. Maybe he doesn't want to be good at it either, but if he admits that to be the case...well, then he's just being reckless, isn't he?





	Nothing Lovelier Under the Night

Gaven marched with purpose along a dusty deer trail woven through wild overgrown bushes and clinging branches of young trees. The chill of the evening chased a falling star as the sky began to shift in color; he raced against time, motivated by the opportunity to bathe after a day of fighting and endless walking. The scouts at camp pointed him in the general direction, warning him the pond was hidden by a copse, but trusted him to be able to find his way. The wilderness was the home of the Dalish, Gaven was not exceptional in that regard. He knew animals always went to water and took the path of least resistance and he followed their wisdom. With every step the air took the crisp, fresh scents of still water, and he found he only needed to push aside a few branches to step past the threshold of the guardian trees to find the pond.  
  
The tranquil water was painted with inky shadows the trees cast upon it. Opposite of Gaven the pond reclaimed to nature a bulky, ancient statue of an owl, marked with lichen that overtook the ancient stone. His people had been here before. On evening’s like this they would have waited in the protective shadow of Andruil’s messenger for prey to come for an evening drink. He knew these hunting tactics, he engaged in them before. The compulsions that drove life to water also drew it to undoing. It was truly poetic.  
  
He put the owl out of his mind and carefully placed his fresh clothes on a low-hanging branch of an older, heftier tree, which offered its limb as a helpful friend might. He clutched an amorphous chunk of soap in his left hand as he undid his belts and stripped off his grimy, blood-stained clothes. The air was still warm but losing heat quickly. As he padded through soft, wet grass, and pushed through reeds he found the water was much colder. He took a deep breath. First contact was worst. The sooner he got this over with the faster he could return to camp and warm by the fire. With that in mind, he bodily threw himself into the deep end of the pond with a splash.  
  
The cold stole the air from his lungs and prickled his skin but he kept his shivering to a minimum as he quickly scrubbed his arms and chest, washed his face and ears, and ruffled loose filth out of his wild hair. After a while, his body began to adjust, and the water didn’t feel quite as miserable as when he started. It almost felt worst to be out in the air now and soon he was less troubled with getting done quickly and more focused on orchestrating novels in his mind that would put Varric to shame. This went on for some time while he bathed until the sound of footfalls and rustling nearby snapped his attention back towards the tree line.  
  
_Bear_ , he thought, and immediately drew back into the water while making himself as small as possible. It might not bother him if respected its space, which was the best he could hope for nude and with no weapons. _No. Heavier feet, boots, must be human. One of the scouts? Don_ _’_ _t hear metal, what if an apostate mage?_  
  
A figure stepped into Gaven’s view, where the trail ended at the tree where his clothes were discarded.  It was a mage. _His_ mage.  
  
“Oh. It’s you.” Gaven said flatly.  
  
“ _’_ _Oh_ _’_? Don’t sound so excited to see me,” Dorian replied voice dripping with sarcasm. “Have you considered telling anyone before you wander off into the wilds? A certain Seeker is pretending she’s not worried about you. Poorly. I told her she wasn’t going to make it in theatre, and she didn’t care much for my opinion.”  
  
Gaven pulled closer to shore with a smile creeping onto his face; he had come to consider Dorian as a friend though they had not known each other long. He should not keep friends with mages from Tevinter, his family would quietly judge him if they knew, but he struggled to hold anything against the man who had saved his hide. Gaven never would have made it as a spy with a closed-mind and though the two men were worlds apart in their life experiences they shared a sense of humor and had an uncanny knack for knowing each other’s minds. The unfortunate problem was Gaven sensed he might have feelings for Dorian and was certain the other man didn’t share them. Amongst other things.  
  
“The scouts know where I went,” Gaven told Dorian with a confident grin, “I’m surprised _you_ were the one to look for me.”  
  
“I wasn’t looking for you sorry to disappoint. I’m more than confident in your abilities to take care of yourself,” Dorian shook his head and lifted his arm, showing Gaven his blood-stained cloak. “To think I was worried about what _blood magic_ might do to my wardrobe before I joined the Inquisition.”  
  
“Heh, that’s nothing. You should see mine.”  
  
Dorian glanced at the filthy clothes laying in a pile at the edge of the pond. He cleared his throat.  
  
“I did see yours. When you were wearing them. Are you…swimming nude?”  
  
“Pfft, yeah? What, do you sh- _humans_ have special clothes for swimming in too?”  
  
Dorian quirked a brow in Gaven’s direction, “Uh, yes?”  
  
“Oh, really? Huh,” Gaven’s voice was small. He was uncertain if he should believe Dorian as his naivety regarding some aspects of human society was often taken advantage of within the Inquisition. Gaven opted to play along until he could ask someone who would give him a trustworthy answer. “The clan wasn’t shy about nudity. We swam and bathed together all the time, but I guess that happens when you’re related to everyone you know. Where would you find private, heated tubs in the middle of the wilderness, anyway?”  
  
Gaven left out the part where the clan also couldn’t afford to have separate sets of clothing for swimming as he knew Dorian couldn’t relate to Gaven’s relative poverty growing up. He didn’t know what it was like to have _more than_ enough, a fact Dorian was aware of, but there was no point in driving it home. He shouldn’t feel embarrassed about it and he didn’t want to so he wouldn’t open the door to that possibility, no matter how much he had come to trust the mage.  
  
Dorian briefly considered what Gaven said before offering a small, informal bow, “This can wait until morning. I’ll leave you to your bath.”  
  
“Wait. Why don’t you join me?” Gaven blurted. He internally flinched but hid his own doubts effectively. “I mean unless you need to run and get your special swimming clothes, but it’s going to be dark soon.”  
  
Dorian paused in his step and looked back, considering the dark surface of the water for a long moment before deigning to answer, “I don’t think so. The water looks dreadfully cold and some of us want to go to sleep _intact_ tonight.”  
  
“It’s not that bad once you’re in it,” Gaven said, keeping Dorian there as long as he spoke. He absentmindedly patted the water with his palms, causing ripples to spread. He pushed his lips into a pout and spoke in a pathetic tone, “Also, I think we’re sharing a tent tonight and I don’t want you to stink it up with your odors.”  
  
“My _what_?” Dorian barked. Gaven expected the response and fought to hide his wicked smile. “My odors? Ohh ho ho! Aren’t you simply hilarious?”  
  
“Are you scared I’ll see your private bits if you don’t have your fancy swimming clothes?” Gaven continued to spur Dorian on. “I’ll cover my face and turn my head away so as not to besmirch your honor, good ser. My innocent eyes have never been tainted by the dreadful sight of a human penis, after all.”  
  
“Your eyes would be _blessed_ to see me naked,” Dorian shot back. “All the more reason to deny the opportunity to peek after describing me in such unflattering terms. _Odors!_ ”  
  
“Is that so? I’m certain this water is holy now that I’ve been in it, so if you jump in now your body could be double-blessed. Think of it,” Gaven continued to tease. “I’m the Herald of Andraste. Hasn’t the Chantry told you this?  
  
“I’ve heard a rumor,” Dorian said, “but I hope you’re not implying you’ve pissed in there.”  
  
Gaven coyly drew circles on top of the water and smirked, “Not yet I haven’t, but now that you mention it…”  
  
“That is not a point in your favor.”  
  
“Aww, even if it warms it up a bit? Well, I’m starting to feel like there isn’t anything I could do to get you in the water with me. My charms and flair for amusing conversation are obviously failing me tonight,” Gaven huffed. He threw up his metaphorical white flag, content to give up his playful harassment of Dorian, but the mage hadn’t left yet. Instead, he stood at the pond’s edge and fixed Gaven with a contemplative stare. “What?”  
  
“You may be outmatched in wits and charm when it comes to yours truly, but I wouldn’t say all that,” Dorian replied quietly. He unsnapped one of the buckles to his many labyrinthine belts. “You may be wearing me down. I dislike the thought of making my good friend suffer my horrific odors all night, especially when he is also the Herald of Andraste. How would that reflect on me within the Inquisition?”  
  
“That’s very kind of you, Dorian. Very thoughtful. Selfless, even.”  
  
“I am brimming with surprises.”  
  
Gaven averted his eyes as he promised and stared at the silhouette of the owl mirrored in the water, thoughts churning in his mind. He did not know why Dorian listened to him. He deluded himself with shallow thoughts that he was merely being friendly, but this was not the same as taking a bath with the clan and he knew it; this was innately flirtatious, playful, and even sexually charged. Their stars being impossibly crossed did not fully encompass Gaven’s issues with what unfolded there. He was a being thrust into responsibility, a mortal avatar of a human god, and the prudent thing to do would be to crush his feelings underfoot and retain Dorian as a good friend. Instead, he let his impulse and hedonism rule him and suffered his lack of appropriate guilt. Admitting that he _chose_ to let himself run reckless and wild was never going to happen. The truth was too much for Gaven to handle.  
  
“No need to act so chaste,” Dorian muttered. Gaven turned his attention back to the mage. “I’m here to inform you that you are a liar, which I’m sure you’re fully aware of. This water is freezing.”  
  
Gaven's eyes fixed on Dorian with the intensity of a hunter calculating his shot to fell his prey. The water offered them both a veil of privacy in its gloom, but everything from Dorian’s navel up was exposed. The elven man traced the lines of his clavicle, the curve of his chest, the breadth of his shoulders. Gaven became practiced in pretending people didn’t exist when they were changing in front of him, as that was how the shemlen preferred it, but he could not seem to control his open ogling of Dorian. Dorian noticed but before he could make a facetious comment Gaven’s eyes darted up to his perfectly styled hair and landed on his gray eyes, still framed by impeccable black wings.  
  
“You’re not even wet yet. Let me-“  
  
Gaven whipped his arm across the surface of the water sending a wave in Dorian’s direction. The man ducked out of the way, trying to block the crash of water with one arm, but nothing could prevent the inevitable. He was soaked through. Finished.  
  
“-fix that for you.”  
  
“Fasta vass, I knew you were going to do that,” Dorian hissed and wiped stray droplets from his eyes. “Did you work that out of your system now or should I expect more?”  
  
“I was only helping,” Gaven replied. “You looked a little greasy.”  
  
“How thoughtful of you,” Dorian said before crouching to submerge his head. When he reappeared Gaven bursts into fits of snickering. “What is possibly so funny to you?”  
  
“Oh no,” Gaven squeaked. “Your face-hair. It’s sad.”  
  
“Did you forget the word ‘moustache’ again?”  
  
“I’ve never seen you all droopy. That’s quite a look. It’s cute.”  
  
“You look the same as you usually do,” Dorian said, casting a glance in Gaven’s direction as he pushed a lock of black hair out of his eyes. “Except cold and wet.”  
  
“Yeah, I’m always cute,” Gaven said with a cheeky wink. “I’m like an adorable frog.”  
  
 “It’s true,” Dorian said with a dramatic sigh. “Hand me that soap, would you?”  
  
Gaven kicked towards Dorian to drift in his direction and reached out his hand which still clutched onto the pale blob of soap. Instead of offering his palm flat as any normal person would do upon receiving something, Dorian pointed his finger, turned his wrist and drew in a brilliant orange light across an invisible canvas in front of Gaven’s eyes. Gaven pulled back but wasn’t fast enough to avoid the explosion of water directly in his face. It happened again and again as Dorian sent fireballs with more force than heat directly to the bottom of the pond, pummeling Gaven with sprays of warm water as the elven man attempted to escape his tormentor.  
  
“No! No! This isn’t fair!” Gaven yelped between spluttered bursts of laughter. He sent a few normal-sized splashes back in Dorian’s direction which provoked further punishment. “You’re cheating!”  
  
“What’s the problem? ‘ _I_ _’_ _m only helping_ ’!” Dorian parroted Gaven’s earlier statement in a silly high-pitched voice before setting another bursting spray on him. “ _’_ _You look a little greasy_ ’. Consider this a kind service I’m providing you. You wanted a warm bath, didn’t you?”  
  
“This is an evil use of magic, Dorian Pavus!”  
  
“What’s a little evil in the name of having fun?” Dorian chuckled and eased off his assault. “That’s an old Tevinter proverb. I’ve dashed all chances of getting that soap from you now, haven’t I?  
  
Gaven was certain that was not an old proverb of any nation, but tentatively reached out once more to hand the soap to Dorian. “You almost made me drop it on the bottom of the pond. We never would have found it again, assuming it wouldn’t have _melted_.”  
  
“Fortunately for us, you’ve got a firm grip,” Dorian impishly teased without missing a beat. A mangled sound of flustered amusement erupted from Gaven’s throat and he squeezed the soap with such force it shot from his hand and ricocheted off Dorian’s chest. Ever graceful, the mage fumbled only for a moment before safely catching it. The joke wrote itself. “See what I mean?”  
  
Gaven kicked away to save his dignity and to busy himself from staring at Dorian the entire time he bathed. He kept his body mostly submerged to avoid the cold of the air and swam in languid circles around the pond. The water became darker as the violet hues faded from the sky and Gaven realized the night would be much darker for human eyes than his own. His teeth chattered with the cold and he righted himself up and drifted back in Dorian’s direction.  
  
“We should go back, I’m getting cold,” Gaven urged. After a thoughtful pause he added, “also bears.”  
  
“Kind of you to drop the impending threat of bears so casually,” Dorian passed the soap back to Gaven, leaving the task of bringing back to camp in his responsible, firm grasp. “Alright. Together then? It might be hard to find your way with your eyes closed the entire time, would you like me to hold your hand?”  
  
Gaven felt flush but stuck his tongue out. He moved quickly towards the shore but kept his gaze away from Dorian, doubting the prodding was a genuine invitation to stare at the man’s muscled, dripping boy. The thought of it made him feel hotter and he was in a rush to clothe himself before he accidentally turned his mind inside out in front of a man who was supposed to be his dearest friend. He snatched up his clothing, swiftly pulling on the fresh breeches when his eyes momentarily landed on the other nude figure once more. The glance was less than innocent, but he found his eyes focusing on a large black dot on the back of Dorian’s thigh, rather than the appealing entirety of his fine form. It was a writhing spot with an odd, glistening texture Gaven’s eyes caught even in the dark. He tilted his head and briefly considered the ramifications of mentioning it to Dorian, but before he could decide Dorian noticed his perplexed stare. No doubt he was about to say something witty about Gaven’s fixed gaze at his ass but noticing the expression of his companion brought pause. He felt at the spot.  
  
Dorian yelped, hopped to one side, and clasped the creature between his fingers. Gaven jumped forward and snatched him by the elbow in a weak attempt to stop what was about to happen. “Wait, don’t! You can’t just yank it off!”  
  
“I’m not going to _yank_ it off!” Dorian’s panic was so palpable Gaven’s own heart was racing in response. “I’m going to burn it.”  
  
“The smell will be awful,” Gaven protested. He then took in a big breath and began to laugh on the exhalation. “After all the demons and cultists we’ve met on the road, we’re going to stand here and yell about a leech?”  
  
“I’m not afraid of it, I think it’s _disgusting_ , and there is a difference,” Dorian was quick to clarify. “Are you going to stand there laughing at me or are you going to help?”  
  
“I’m sorry I’ll help,” Gaven said once he managed to swallow his laughter. He gently tugged at Dorian’s arm, encouraging him to step closer. “This won’t hurt, I promise.”  
  
“Does it not? I always thought using them in medicine was a bit archaic,” Dorian babbled nervously, which made the work of flicking the leech off much easier for Gaven. “There aren’t more, are there?”  
  
Gaven looked over Dorian’s backside and tried not to mentally linger on the intimacy his brain was trying to insert; he had picked leeches and ticks off his sisters and cousins growing up and they did the same for him with the thoughtlessness of familiarity. This should be the same, but it wasn’t. He wanted to look for other reasons and for the first time Gaven began to suspect that Dorian did as well.  
  
_Dorian, you’re killing me_.  
  
“All clear!” Gaven dutifully announced at Dorian’s back. “You found the singular leech in that entire pond. Lucky you.”  
  
“Indeed! Lucky me!” Dorian enthusiastically agreed. He grabbed his own clothing, the ones he had come with. “Perhaps you could…not tell anyone back at camp about the bloodsucker? ‘ _A horrible Tevinter blood mage attracting leeches? How fitting!’_ The jeering will be insufferable.”  
  
Gaven laughed as he pulled his clean, light shirt over his head, “Is this how I’m to repay you for saving my tail back in Redcliffe? I could keep it quiet. Maybe.”  
  
“You, of all people, would never mock me.”  
  
“Not about this, at least.”  
  
Gaven noticed Dorian’s smile despite the thick black that enveloped them now. He watched as Dorian raised his hand and opened his fingers and softly uttered more words in an incomprehensible tongue. Gaven watched with wide-eyed fascination as the light flashed in a small space between the mage’s fingers, followed by the sound of tearing and prickles in Gaven’s left hand. Gaven looked down and saw faint green dots patterned across his skin like distant twinkling stars. He ignored the mild pain, turning his attention back to Dorian and the floating blue-white light he seemed to hold in his palm without touching. The light jumped towards Gaven and he reflexively threw up his hand to catch it, but it stopped a moment before hitting him, hovering above his palm. It carelessly bounced between his fingers and his mark responded by shimmering every time it drew too close. Gaven’s face lit up with amusement.  
  
“Is this a wisp? I’ve never seen one this close before,” he gasped, “or this friendly.”  
  
“Friendly and entertained by your hand, it seems,” Dorian said, studying the effect the bobbing light had on Gaven’s mark. “Did…that hurt you?”  
  
“Not at all,” Gaven lied. The pain wasn’t worth mentioning, no worse than needles at waking a limb. “Sometimes we saw them deep in the woods or near ancient ruins. They usually darted away if you drew too close and it was said following one could be dangerous. This little guy doesn’t seem so bad though, do you?”  
  
“Hopefully this one can make itself useful and lead us back to our camp in one piece. I’m much less likely to set the trees on fire this way, yes?  Some of us can’t see in the dark very well,” Dorian said and gestured towards the deer trail both men had followed to get there. “Go on now. Follow this trail, please.”  
  
“You heard your father, you’d better run along,” Gaven spoke to the little wisp and gently parted his fingers. The tiny spirit pounced from his palm onto the trail where it was directed and hopped along dutifully, casting light wherever it went. Dorian began to follow it and Gaven trailed behind. “It seems so happy.”  
  
Dorian turned his head so his voice would carry back to Gaven as he walked, “I’ll hope it doesn’t get distracted, otherwise I’ll have to hold your hand and let you lead me back.”  
  
“Heh, I would do it.”  
  
“I know you would, but perhaps I don’t need to depend on you so much?” Dorian pondered. They passed the last of the thickest of the trees without incident and a meadow spread out before them. They could see the firelight of their camp painting the large Inquisition tents in orange light. “It must be a weighty thing, having so many people ask so much of you. I don’t need to count myself among them.”  
  
Gaven swallowed and his usual air of confidence wavered, “I don’t mind helping. It makes me happy. It doesn’t have to be…like that…you don’t have to feel like you owe me anything.” _And I wouldn’t mind if you held my hand._  
  
The path before them disappeared and the wisp hopped back toward the two men, the closest interesting things it could find. Dorian sighed and reached out his hand for the spirit to return to. He thanked the spirit and sent it back to the Fade, sending new trickles of pain across Gaven’s hand as he quietly watched. They walked at each other’s sides now and the sliver of the moon lit the meadow outside the reach of the campfire.  
  
“Well…it isn’t so terrible knowing I have a friend in the South” Dorian responded after a moment. Gaven sensed that much was being left unsaid, but he wouldn’t pressure him. It would all come out in time.  
  
Gaven reached out to touch Dorian’s arm, hoping the physical contact would bring him out of his head and back into the moment.  
  
“You have a lot of friends in the South, you’ll see,” Gaven told him while putting on an easy smile. Then he lowered his voice to a whisper, “I think we’re about to get caught, but we don’t have to be if we’re really quiet. I know a way to sneak around some of the tents, so Cassandra won’t see us.”  
  
“That’s…hmph. That’s a horrid little idea. If she catches us sneaking around camp it will make it that much worse,” Dorian hesitated. “Let’s do it.”  
  
Now was the perfect opportunity to grab Dorian’s hand. By himself, Gaven could have easily gotten into camp unnoticed, but with Dorian in tow, they hardly stood a chance. The amusement was in the attempt and the thrill of doing something they shouldn’t. Their struggles to conceal their budding laughter as Dorian fumbled behind Gaven, nearly knocking him over once when he suddenly stopped, made the experience worth it. It was foolish fun and a chance to feel young again. Dorian’s palm was warm against his as he led him along and he wondered if chancing his heart would be worth all the temporary joy it would bring to his life; it was silly, but maybe it could turn into something beautiful.  
  
He chose to be reckless and wild and it was _wonderful_.


End file.
